The Allure of the Darkness
by TheMaraudersLiveOn
Summary: Adopted from Slytherin's Assassin. Harry realizes that the 'Dark' side of the war has wronged him the least number of times and kills his relatives. Dark!Evil!Powerful!Harry HarryxBellatrix.
1. Chapter 1

**_The Allure of the Darkness_**

**Chapter 1**

**Disclaimer: None of the things you recognize is mine. Heck, even the first chapter belongs to someone else.**

Harry Potter wasn't easily agitated, he had been through so much crap that eventually the little things stopped bothering him and the only things that set him off were things like, say, his godfather's death because of an incompetent Headmaster and a sad

Harry Potter wasn't easily agitated, he had been through so much crap that eventually the little things stopped bothering him and the only things that set him off were things like, say, his godfather's death because of an incompetent Headmaster and a sadistic Death Eater. So when the words of said Death Eater seemed to echo in his head repeatedly and when his mind remembered the alluring feeling of power that had filled him when he had used the Cruciatus curse on Bellatrix kept luring him, _calling _him, he didn't exactly feel like taking shit from people.

"_Never used an Unforgivable Curse before, have you, boy?"_ she had taunted loudly, _"You have to__** mean **__them, Potter! You need to really want to cause pain - to enjoy it - righteous anger won't hurt me for long_..." Her words were etched into his memories as strongly as the images of the red beam of light. _A Stunner_, he shouted inside his mind incredulously_, wouldn't Bellatrix rather use a __Crucio__? Or maybe even an __Avada Kedavra__? _He sighed. _Men will never understand women no matter how hard they try. Will they_, he asked himself, shaking his head in amusement.

But that dark feeling, it didn't recess into the darker parts of his mind like it used to, ever since Voldemort had placed the seeds of doubt and darkness within him. _"There is no good and evil," _the dark lord's minion had said,_ "There is only power, and those to weak to seek it."_ That was in his first year. Since then there had been more and more doubt of Dumbledore and his teachings, of the whole light/dark, good/evil thing, as far as he could tell Voldemort was as powerful -if not more so- than Dumbledore, their duel in the Ministry of Magic had proved that much.

As he thought about that, he wondered, _what about all this power of love Dumbledore was ranting about_, he almost sneered at the word 'love.' He didn't _know_ love. Hermione, Ron, both of them had doubted him in times past, they had such a large grounding in Dumbledore's teachings that it was disgusting, they hung off his every word as if he was god's gift to mudbloods and/or mudblood sympathizers.

Moody's threats to his relatives didn't hold true. After they had returned Vernon had done something he hadn't done since Harry had begun going to Hogwarts, he had _hit_ him, he had _beaten_ him, and he had _defeated_ him.

The Dursleys had been notified of the exact details of Cedric's and Sirius' deaths after the latest one. Dumbledore had sent a letter hoping they wouldn't hurt his golden boy due to their sympathy. _No_, Harry reminded himself bitterly, _h__is previously blind __**weapon**_.

Informing them of it did nothing but make it worse, his uncle taunting him about it, fueling his hatred and anger, making his hatred for muggles grow. The thing that had made his hatred solidify had been when a police officer had come to the house because the neighbors had called in about 'Disturbing the Peace' because of the screams Harry had issued from his throat as Vernon had beaten him. When the policeman had seen his bruises he looked angry at first, but the minute he realized that it was 'The_ Disturbed_ Boy,' as the locals had labeled him, he had figured that he deserved it. Before sneering briefly, and leaving.

It was sickening to the point where Harry realized that Voldemort wasn't as bad as he was thought out to be, after all, he was supposed to be the 'light' side's poster-boy and he had these feelings of hatred and resentment towards muggles.

Harry could see it now, the Daily Prophet's headline being: '**Harry Potter: Dark Lord Sympathizer**.' His life since he had came into the wizarding world had been hilarious, at first he was '**Harry Potter: Savior to the Wizarding World**' (Halloween 1981 - 1st Year), then he had then been labeled '**Harry Potter: Killer of Mudbloods and Parselmouth Extraordinaire**' (2nd Year), although it had changed back to the original by the end of the year though, in third year he was '**Harry Potter: Dead Man Walking**' and after that, it had been '**Harry Potter: Attention Seeking Brat**' (4th Year). His fifth year had been spent as '**Harry Potter: He-Who-Is-Delusional**,' and now, it was currently back to his original title, along with '**Harry Potter: Teenage Heartthrob**,' although that was only in _Teen Witch Weekly_.

So, as Harry lay on his bed, it was no wonder that he questioned his reasons for the whole 'Hero Complex.' Why did he do it? Did he take some perverse glee in getting into near-death experiences? Was he really attention-seeking? Or, as he had decided, was he just being controlled by Dumbledore?

As he thought about the last one he decided to research his life up until now. His eyes glazed over while he thought of days past.

There he was, cowering in fear of Hagrid, the kindly giant. _T__here's something_, he realized, _why would Dumbledore send him when he can't apparate like the rest of the staff? Why not send McGonagall, or Flitwick, or, dare I say it, Snape_, that was when he came to the realization that, _Hagrid preaches about Dumbledore like he's Merlin himself! He also has an extreme prejudice against Slytherin, which he so kindly informed me in words that were almost, 'Well, Harry, all Dark Wizards and Witches come from Slytherin because, You-Know-Who was in that house'. _It disgusted him, really. How could he have not had realized that if _all_ Slytherins were evil, then Dumbledore wouldn't have been in Slytherin?

It was funny when he realized the small things now, like how Mrs. Weasley, mother of seven, hadn't been able to remember where the Platform 9 3/4 was. After all, she had gone to Hogwarts, Bill and Charlie had gone to Hogwarts, Percy and the twins were going to Hogwarts. It was simple, really. Why not have your son become the best friend of 'The-Boy-Who-Lived?' It was really quite obvious to him now.

The thing that ruffled him the most was that he hadn't noticed the manipulations. He hadn't noticed Dumbledore's subtle ministrations until he had been a part of them for almost fifteen years, his sixteenth birthday approaching in only a few days.

He now realized that Dumbledore had spoken a half truth at the end of his second year to divert him from the truth, saying that they (Harry and Tom, a.k.a Voldemort) were similar because they were both Parselmouths. That wasn't what he had been talking about, both he and Tom had grown up being abused by muggles, and yet, each year they were sent back to their own personal hells. Now there was yet another similarity, they had both used dark magic at a young age, and both had at least been _meant_ to be in Slytherin, if not for certain interferences.

Harry took out a piece of parchment and a quill, deciding to write out all of the things people in the various factions had done that piss him off, it read:

**Albus Dumbledore's 'Lightside'**

_**Things done that piss me off: Leaving me at my relatives, Sending me back to my relatives every year, Manipulating me, Deceiving me relentlessly and not properly instructing me in Occlumency, thus leading to Sirius' death.**_

**Fudge's Ministry of Magic**

_**Things done that piss me off: Umbridge (enough said), Sicking Dementors on me, trying to wrongly imprison me in Azkaban and allowing Fudge to continue living.**_

**Voldemort and his Death Eaters**

_**Things done that piss me off: Killing my parents, Trying to kill me almost annually since 1992 (the man has pride afterall), and killing my godfather.**_

It was obvious that some things were worse than others such as the homicide attempts, no matter how indirectly, made by all three factions.

Dumbledore had really caused , mostly indirectly, all of the pain in Harry's 15 -almost 16- years of living. He hadn't put up silencing wards when Trelawney had begun the prophecy as he should have, he hadn't given his parents better protection, he had left him with the Dursleys, he had manipulated him almost his whole life, he had sent him back to the Dursleys every year, and, worst of all, had been a very big catalyst in his godfather's death.

Fudge and his Ministry were corrupt, taking bribes and killing off those that had the position to drive him out of his position as Minister of Magic. He had sent the Dementors after him, he had tried to get Harry sent to Azkaban where he would be haunted by his horrible memories with no protection, and he had sent _her_, that nasty bitch Umbridge. Harry glanced down at his hand where the words, _I will not tell lies,_ was engraved into his flesh as a scar.

And lastly dear old Tom, he had killed his parents, _whom__ I never knew_, he mused, he had also attempted to kill him many other times, _only_ _b__ecause I survived and ruined his image of immortality_, he also realized. The final thing was Bellatrix's inadvertent murder of his godfather. _She used a stunner... perhaps she was just trying to take him out of the fight_, it made sense, after all, not everyone wants to kill their own flesh and blood, not everyone was mistreated by family like he and Voldemort. Such startling similarities between the Dark Lord and the Golden Boy, it was these things that made Harry laugh.

He really didn't understand what was so bad about being a Death Eater really, maybe the _Crucios_ issued forth from Voldemort's wand would be bad, but other than that, you weren't treated as a prisoner, you had free-will to the expected extents and you only had to kill muggles which was pretty much on the 'application' for being a Death Eater. Harry knew he had killed, he had killed Quirrel and he had killed Tom Jr. from the diary, even if it was only a memory. Muggles were among the things he _hated_ and _loathed_ now, being among the likes of Albus Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge -who were at the top.

Harry decided to deliberate the issue, _should I become a Death Eater_, on one hand, he would probably have to kill Remus, the last living person deserving of the title 'Marauder' one day, or at least be on the side that caused his death. On the other hand, he would be free to study what he wanted, no strings attached, except murdering muggles, following Voldemort, and being close to Bella. _Bella_,he questioned himself, _since when did she become Bella_, deciding to ponder it some other time he realized he really didn't mind that he would be close to Bella.

After all, he was a regular 15 -almost 16- year old hormonal teenager and Bellatrix was very attractive, even after her almost 15 year stay in Azkaban. It was funny; really, he shouldn't feel these things for the inadvertent killer of his godfather. _But I do_, he reminded himself, it was almost sad that he didn't hate her all the much.

He was interrupted by a voice that made his anger rise more than it ever had before, "FREAK! You're going to make dinner for us at once," his hand twitched toward his wand and he made his decision. He wrote a quick letter to Voldemort that read:

**Voldemort,**

**This Harry Potter and I think I'll take you up on that offer you made all those years ago in 1992, by the time you receive this I'll most likely be imprisoned in Azkaban and I'd really appreciate it if you would be so kind as to free me from the prison. I believe that by the time you receive this message you'll understand why I was imprisoned, please do consider my offer.**

**Sincerely,**

**Harry James Potter**

**(Murderer of Muggles, First Class, Traitor to Dumbledore, First Class as well)**

**P.S. - Please refrain from killing my owl, Hedwig, I really wouldn't like to see her demise.**

He added the last part because he felt that a little sarcasm might make Voldemort's day, he handed it to Hedwig and spoke, "Deliver this to Voldemort," at the confused face the owl made he spoke, "Don't ask questions, please, just do it and remain there." Hedwig bobbed her head and nipped his finger in affection, flying of towards a Dark Lord.

Not ten seconds after Hedwig's departure did Harry's door burst open, Vernon's red face split into a sadistic grin when he looked upon Harry. Just as he charged him Harry drew his wand, watching as Vernon clambered back in fright, "I've suffered at your hands for almost 15 years Vernon Dursley. Give me one reason why I shouldn't just kill you now," he said before the man seemed to have some realization as most of the fear receded from his face.

"Don't try to fool me! I know you can't do magic out side of that freak school of yours," he spat before Harry cast a quick silencing spell so that his other _dear_ relatives didn't flee.

"You're not taking into account that _I don't care anymore_! I'll go to Azkaban sure, but I'll also get my vengeance," as he spoke the final word Harry's eyes flickered from emerald to crimson before, as he spoke one word, it stopped at the blood-red color, that word was, "_Crucio,_" the red jet of pain shot out of Harry's wand, all of his hate boiling in his mind, everything that had ever caused him pain.

Vernon screamed out in pain immediately, writhing on the ground disgustingly in Harry's opinion, it was with a slight start that Harry realized, _w__ell, there's no going back now, is there_?

As he finished that thought he spoke to Vernon, "This isn't a crime Vernon! Not to me, this is simply retribution," with that Harry spoke another incantation, "_Avada Kedavra,_" the sickly-green jet of death shot from Harry's wand, hitting Vernon square in the chest.

The man immediately stopped moving, his face set in a permanent grimace of pain and his skin the deathly pale color of the dead. He realized the Aurors would be here soon to arrest him so he quickly headed to the kitchen, knowing that his other relatives were there, most likely awaiting their supper.

He was planning on torturing them with the Cruciatus curse as he neared the kitchen but then he heard multiple 'pops' of apparation and figured he might as well finish off two more muggles before he was taken away to the wizarding prison. The two Dursleys looked up as he entered the kitchen, eyes only widening in fear when they noticed the wand in his hands.

He leveled his wand at Dudley first, "Goodbye _ickle Duddiekins_," he sneered, "_Avada Kedavra,_" he shouted, the sickly-green jet silencing Dudley Dursley forever.

He relished in the sound of his aunt's wails, the words, "My Dudders," issuing from her throat.

Hearing the door open he took aim at Petunia Dursley, his last blood relative, he decided to give her no mercy, "I've already killed Vernon, Petunia, just like this," he paused noticing an Auror who had just entered, "_Avada Kedavra,_" he laughed loudly at the 'thump' of his aunt's body as she fell, dead, to the floor.

Loving the fear all three Dursleys and now the Auror had shown, he turned to the Auror he asked, "Are you here to take me to Azkaban," the Auror nodded dumbly, still in fear of him, "Well, you're not doing a bloody good job of it, are you," he laughed insanely at his words.

The Auror seemed to snap back to the reality of things as he put the wizarding handcuffs on Harry, before dragging him back to the other Aurors and speaking, "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can, and will, be used against you in the wizarding court of law. You have the right to a wizarding attorney, and the right to a trial." Harry just laughed, much like his godfather had all those years ago.

* * *

Harry walked into the courtroom, everyone quieted and he noticed many familiar faces within the public trial, it was a day after his capture.

There was Ron, who looking betrayed and disheartened, and Hermione being almost a mirror of that, but both of their faces turned into a look of hatred at his entry.

He also noticed Dumbledore was there, looking at him disappointed, Harry decided to put the old man in his place "Don't you _dare _be disappointed in _me_! I'm disappointed in _you _and your _bloody_ manipulations," he hissed out, almost slipping into parseltongue.

He watched as surprise flitted across everyone's faces before they all glared at him, except, he noted with some amusement, most of Voldemort's followers who were looking at him somewhat pridefully.

He walked up to the chair that sat in the center, chains coming up and wrapping around his arms as he settled into it, the Minister looked as pleased as can be, Harry, attempting a bit of non-verbal Legilimency could hear his thoughts which were: _Finally I can send this brat to Azkaban! He's been a constant little nuisance for far too long!_

Harry decided some entertainment might be fun.

"I would appreciate it," he spoke "if you would refrain from calling me a brat and a nuisance within your mind, Minister. I can read it like an open book."

This startled everyone, who looked to Fudge who's face flushed in embarrassment and then rage, "How dare you invade my mind! You impudent little brat! _I _am the Minister of Magic," he said the last thing smugly.

Harry sighed, "I could care less if you were Merlin himself, if he was as incompetent as you . . . well, maybe he wouldn't _deserve_ to be known as the strongest wizard known to the wizarding world," he paused, "But I do have to complement you on finding a loophole in what I said out of pure luck." At Fudge's purely confused look he continued, "I never did say you were to refrain from calling me brat outside of your mind," he continued, "But I will now. Minister, do not address me as a brat or nuisance verbally or non-verbally as I have never been a child and I don't like the term nuisance . . . hmm . . . maybe the term 'mortal enemy' would work or 'my eternal bane', those seem suitable," he noted that his words were amusing everyone but Percy, Umbridge, and obviously the Minister.

"Now see here, my bo-" Fudge began.

Harry interrupted him, "I am _not_ a _boy_," Harry grounded out, "and I will certainly _never_ be '_yours_' as I don't swing that way, Fudge," he finished mockingly, watching as Cornelius' face colored in rage and embarrassment once again, he watched as other members of the Wizengamot decided to start the trial.

"Order! Order!" the chuckling of the attending parties quieted, he noticed that Mrs. Malfoy seemed to be fighting to maintain herself as she watched him make a mockery of the Minister, he flashed what he thought looked like a winning smile, what he didn't know that it looked like a devilish smirk. He almost laughed as Narcissa Malfoy colored in embarrassment and he thought to himself privately, _well, at least I know that Teen Witch Weekly wasn't lying_, he chuckled at his thoughts which only served to embarrass Narcissa more.

Fudge seemed to have regained control of his face as it was just the usual color as he spoke, "Very well, now that the guilty party -Mr. Potter- is present, we may begin the Trial for the illegal use of magic on the 29th of July," he spoke, "into offences committed under the Ban of the Unforgivable Curses, the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, and the crime of Magical Homicide by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey," anybody who didn't know what the trial was about gasped at the multiple felonies, Harry merely grinned roguishly and slightly insanely, "Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Delores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister; Court Scribe, Percival Ignatius Weasley-" he was once again interrupted by Harry

"Witness for the defense, Harry James Potter-_Black_, Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient Houses of Potter _and_ Black," he said, since Sirius had made him the heir to the family in his will and he almost laughed when everyone gasped in shock, save Narcissa and a few others who had been present at the will-reading.

He waited for Fudge to continue, "Yes," he shuffled some papers on his desk, "Well then, so, the charges, yes," the man looked through the papers before speaking, "The charges against the accused are as follows: that he did, knowingly, and in the presence of muggles, cast four Unforgivable Curses on said muggles, thus committing three counts of homicide," he spoke, "How do you plead?"

Harry thought it over, he was going to go to Azkaban anyway but he wanted to have some fun, "Well, just because I want to delay this so I can spend the least amount of time with some Aurors, and the kind Dementors, I guess I'll plead guilty," he paused, interrupting Fudge before the man could speak, "Yes, I am completely guilty of defending myself against the inhabitants of number four Privet Drive," Harry felt like seeing if he could get out of all of his charges, for the fun of it.

The man seemed startled before asking Harry to explain; Harry put on his best emo face and voice and spoke "Those horrendous, filthy, _muggles_," he spat the word like it was some bad tasting food, "tortured me emotionally and physically. All three inhabitants beat me for being a wizard and they constantly tried to make me feel guilty for the deaths of both Cedric Diggory and Sirius Orion Black, the last part didn't really work," he trailed off, "_Anyway,_" he spoke in what he thought was an innocent tone . . . it wasn't, "When Vernon Dursley was about attack me I cast the _Cruciatus_ curse on him, hoping to stop him from hurting me, that only served to fuel him as he tried to attack me again, I used the killing curse against him, realizing he would never change. I then went downstairs and into the kitchen to plead that my cousin and aunt not hurt me for protecting myself, they reached for the knifes and so I fired the killing curse, _Avada Kedavra_, on both of them, the first on my cousin and the second on my aunt," he faked sadness and regret at the proper moments, sadly he wasn't meant for show business.

"Lies! You're _guilty_," the Minister exclaimed gleefully, the last word he heard was, "_Stupefy_," before all he saw was black.


	2. Chapter 2

**_The Allure of the Darkness_**

**Chapter 2**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any other characters from the Potterverse. If I did, the last three books would be different.**

Harry woke with a pounding head in a dark room, raising a shaking hand to his head he cursed loudly, what did they do

Harry woke with a pounding head in a dark room, raising a shaking hand to his head he cursed loudly, _what did they do? Bash my bloody brains in with a hammer, they would_, he thought with a grimace.

"Bloody Aurors," he muttered darkly as he sat up, "I swear to god, I will kill them."

He was interrupted by the sound of the locking mechanism clacking open on the door. It slowly creaked open, allowing the light to pool into the dim, dank room. He noticed the walls were rough stone, and the bed in the corner was grey with filth. An Auror stepped into the doorway and glared down at him as he sat in the middle of the room.

"Potter," he snapped, stepping toward the boy, "Get up. Your portkey is here to take you to the Azkaban ferry."

"Oh, joy," Harry said sarcastically, "Please allow me time to locate a container for my enthusiasm."

The Auror growled as he jerked the teen up by his upper arm, before twisting his arms around his back painfully and tightened the wizarding handcuffs. Harry hissed in pain as they dug into his wrists. The Auror pushed him roughly, scowling at his back.

"Move, Potter," he growled, "I have stuff to do."

"Fine," Harry snapped over his shoulder, then quieter, "Bloody wanker."

His comment only caused him to be shoved roughly from behind by the Auror. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the baleful glare the Auror sent him. _Wow_, he thought, _Becoming a criminal really seems to piss people off. I should have done it a long time ago._ He smirked at the Auror before returning his gaze to the front.

They rounded a bend and came to a reinforced steel door. Stepping up beside him, the Auror loudly pounded on it three times. Once again, Harry heard the locking mechanism as the door swung open.

When he walked into the room, the first thing he noticed was the group of people standing in the middle of the room. Then he noticed the ring of Aurors situated around the room, against the rough stone walls. The only source of light was wall torches that cast flickering shadows over everything. The Auror pushed him through the door, closing and locking it behind him. Grabbing his upper arm again, the Auror dragged him to the group in the middle of the floor before he removed the handcuffs.

Walking away, the wizard took an empty spot against the wall as he stared at the central group. Harry took that time to view the faces of those bound for Azkaban and was vaguely surprised to see it was the very Death Eaters that he and his friends had gotten arrested almost two weeks ago. None of which looked at him with any sort of goodwill.

"Potter," one of them growled, his eyes gleaming in the poor lighting, "Come to mock us? Does poor little Potter feel invincible now? The Dark Lord will destroy you."

Harry just stared, bored at the group before rolling his eyes and looking to the ceiling in a gesture of mild frustration. He crossed his arms and glared at the Aurors. He could feel his headache building between his eyes, and he raised his hands and rubbed it with two fingers.

Another door opened, admitting an Auror carrying a length of rope. When the door closed and locked, the Aurors surrounding the group of convicts raised their wands and pointed them toward the center of the room. The rope carrying Auror walked to the group and held the rope out.

"Prisoners," she said, looking at them coolly, "Grab the Portkey."

Harry watched as one of the Death Eaters, Rudolphus, grabbed one end of the rope, sighing heavily. His brother grabbed the other and the Auror released it, and stepped back. Soon all of the Death Eaters were holding the rope tightly, waiting for the inevitable hook behind their navel.

"Potter," one of the Aurors barked loudly, "Grab the Portkey. Now."

Harry sighed, _maybe I shouldn't. What's the worst they can do_, he thought darkly, rolling his eyes at the Aurors.

"Potter," the Auror repeated dangerously, "Grab. The. Portkey."

Harry locked eyes with him for a moment before rolling his eyes and walking over to the rope, touching it with one finger and a look of disgust on his face. The Death Eaters looked at him in amazement, to which he only raised an eyebrow and smirked.

He felt the hook behind his navel as they were jerked away to some unknown location, well, unknown to him. His feet slammed into the ground and he stumbled slightly, but somehow managed to stay on his feet. The Death Eaters didn't even blink as they landed.

In this new position, they seemed to be in the same spot that they had left, only, Harry noticed with a slight shock, they were a different group. Each Auror stepped forward and grabbed hold of a convict. As he watched the others, he felt his arms yanked behind his back and cuffed tightly.

The Aurors pushed, or dragged, their respective criminals toward a waiting longboat. To Harry, it looked as though it couldn't even stay above water, but hey, what is magic for? They were all put into the boat, and their cuffs were chained down to the floor behind them. _Wonder why they do that_, he thought to himself, _maybe to keep the prisoners in the boat so they can't swim away._

As they were chained down, another Auror walked through and jerked on their arms, making sure they were tied down correctly. One of the Death Eaters made to kick at the Auror but was awarded with a punch to the face. When the Auror got to Harry, he looked down at the teen and snarled, delivering several sharp hits to his head and face. Tiring on beating on him, the Auror went to the back and nodded at those on the shore.

The boat left the shore with a gut-wrenching lurch. Harry groaned slightly, his head bowed in pain as he leaned against his bonds. When he looked up, the Death Eaters were looking at him with a morbid expression of curiosity. He scowled at them before looking down at the rotting planking between his tattered trainers.

It was a long silent ride to the dark island of Azkaban, with the occasional cough or curse from one of the Death Eaters or an Auror. With a jerking, shuddering motion, the longboat slipped up next to the dock and was rammed against it by a rough wave. A pair of Aurors leapt from the boat and cast a pair of stabilizing spells on it, ending the rocking motion caused by the waves.

The Auror that had checked the chains walked through and unchained each of them, pausing only to cuff Harry in the face. The Aurors gestured for them to stand and they did so, filing out of the boat and onto the dock. There, they were herded toward a large pair of double doors. A giant 'A' was embossed in the center of the large doors. _Overkill, much_, Harry thought to himself, _wizards just don't understand subtlety, do they?_

He barely stifled his chuckle, _my wit astounds me_, he thought with a dark humor. When the doors were opened, he was bombarded with cold and a sense of foreboding. He heard the scream of his mother as the Dementors descended upon the new arrivals. Harry fought back the darkness that was threatening to claim his vision. Seeming to enjoy themselves, the Dementors glided away, leaving a group of twelve trembling or shaking captives.

Several of the Aurors laughed at the captives as they forced them over to a wall and made them sit against it. _Oh, I hope Voldemort doesn't take his time_, Harry thought, _I definitely won't make it through this sane as it is. Hell, I may become just as mad as Bella, and that is saying something about this place._

A pair of Aurors walked over and spoke to the Aurors that had escorted them to Azkaban. After exchanging a few quick words, one of the Aurors walked over to them. His gaze travelled over the faces of each of those squatting against the wall.

"I will call your name, and I want each of you to answer," he said, "It will make this go so much smoother."

"Avery, Marcus," he said, looking down at a piece of paper in his hand.

"Die," Avery replied with a snarl.

The Auror ignored him as he continued down his list, "Crabbe, Vincent Sr," he said.

Crabbe grunted, glaring at the Auror.

"Dolohov, Antonin," he said, then added, "Welcome back."

"Go get stuffed, Auror scum," Dolohov snapped.

"Jugson, Andrew," the Auror continued.

"Fuck you," the Death Eater who had spoken to Harry earlier, snarled at the Auror.

"Lestrange, Rabastan."

"Go to Hell."

"Lestrange, Rudolphus."

"The Dark Lord will kill you."

"Macnair, Walden."

"Stop speaking, Auror."

"Malfoy, Lucius."

"When I get out, I shall enjoy killing you and your family."

"Mulciber, Nicolas."

"I will get out."

"Potter, Harold."

"Here, but not for long."

The Auror looked at the grinning teen. His eyes widening slightly in disbelief, before narrowing, "You will not escape. Azkaban is the most secure prison on the planet."

"Rookwood, Augustus."

"Present, Auror dog."

"Aurors," the Auror said rising to his feet and turned to the others standing around behind him, "All are present. Take them down to the Maximum Security Block. Place them in the empty cells."

Immediately, the Aurors walked forward and grabbed the twelve. Walking down several levels, they reached what was believed to be the bowels of Azkaban. _Bowels_, Harry thought to himself humorously, _who's idea was it to call it the bowels of Azkaban? Obviously, they must have been insane._

Harry was roughly shoved into a cell, and then his cuffs were removed. He spun to say something impolite to the Auror, but he was stopped by a solid punch into his stomach, effectively doubling him over and dropping him to the ground.

"Bastard," Harry forced out to the cruelly smiling Auror.

The Auror laughed as he left Harry's cell, closing and locking the door. Outside, Harry heard the other doors slamming and the whisper of a locking spell. His stomach cramped painfully where the Auror had hit him, causing him to double over again.

"They're all in," an Auror outside said, "Let's get upstairs before the Dementors come in here."

Harry heard the sound of feet walking up stairs. When he couldn't hear them anymore, he grunted in pain. Then a familiar cold washed over him, accompanied by the screams of his dying mother. He doubled over as the feeling of misery increased, clutching his head. He couldn't stop the effects the Dementors were creating. Unable to hold it back anylonger, Harry screamed in anguish as his vision clouded over in a haze of green light.

"_He's here," a voice, James, was heard, "Lily, take Harry and run! Go! I'll hold him off."_

_An explosion was heard as the front door was blown inwards. A shadowy figure was seen stepping through the dust._

"_You'll never get them," James yelled defiantly as he raised his wand._

"_Avada Kedavra," Voldemort said, bored, as the green light struck the defiant Potter._

_James fell dead, surprise etched on his face. Voldemort calmly stepped over the fallen body of James and walked up the stairs, his boots creating quiet thumps on the stairs as he slowly walked up towards the nursery. He blew that door off the hinges too, this time, for the hell of it._

"_Give me the boy, and I will spare your life," he hissed._

"_No! Leave Harry alone, kill me, but spare him," Lily screamed at the Dark Lord._

"_Move aside, girl," Voldemort hissed angrily, raising his wand, "Avada Kedavra."_

_Lily's body fell, her dead, glassy eyes defiant. Walking over toward the crib, Voldemort peered down into a pair of fearless emerald eyes, his own crimson ones curious._

"_So, you are the one that is supposed to kill me," he hissed, "I don't see how. You are not anything special. Avada Kedavra."_

_The green light flew toward the infant, and Voldemort smirked. Striking the infant, the green light flared before rebounding at the surprised Dark Lord. When it struck him, he screamed in agony before his body vaporized, leaving a cloud of black, malevolent energy. The cloud hovered for several moments before it flew from the room. All that was left of the Dark Lord was a pile of smoking robes, and his yew wand laying atop them._

That memory was by far, the worst of Harry's memories. But some others soon joined it.

_Only one couple were still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: He was laughing at her. "Come on, you can do better than that," he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room._

_The second jet of light hit him squarely in the chest._

_The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock._

_Harry released Neville, although he was unaware of doing so. He was jumping down the steps again, pulling out his wand, as Dumbledore turned to the dais too._

_It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backward through the ragged veil hanging from the arch. . ._(1)

Harry screamed again, his eyes clenched shut as he relived his worst memories. His forehead was pressed to the cool stone floor as tears ran down his face.

"Sirius," he said in a ragged voice.

The memories once again swept him up, tormenting him with their horrible contents. He was unaware if a minute or a day had passed in his torture. The other Death Eaters were no better off, sometimes he heard their screams, and they heard his.

Gradually, the Dementors effects went away, allowing Harry to breathe easier, his torment easing away. He heard shouting from the upper levels, and couldn't hold back his smile. _Sounds like Voldemort finally made it_, he thought gleefully, _took him long enough._ The noise ceased a few minutes later as Harry crowded to his cell door, trying to see the stairs.

Several dark figures emerged from the staircase, one of which he recognized as Voldemort. _Thank Merlin_, he thought to himself, _never thought I would see the day were I was thankful to see Voldemort and his Death Eaters._

"Bring them to me," Voldemort hissed to his followers who spread out and released the Death Eaters.

As one they bowed before the Dark Lord, who appeared pissed. That thought was confirmed as Harry's scar flared in pain. He winced, glaring at the Dark Lord.

"Rudolphus," Voldemort hissed, angrily, "Please explain to my why I had to break you out of Azkaban again. And why, twelve Inner Circle Death Eaters were stopped by six Hogwarts students. None of which was over fifth year."

Rudolphus bowed and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robe, his hands shaking and his body trembling.

"My Lord," he said trying to keep his voice from shaking, "It was Potter. . ."

Voldemort cut him off, "So you mean to tell me that Potter was the sole reason for your complete failure. Rudolphus, if you had managed to capture any of them, your failure would be tolerated. But you did not, and so you shall be punished for failing me," he hissed as he raised his wand.

"_Avada Kedavra_," he said almost lovingly, "Let this be a message to the rest of you. Do not fail Lord Voldemort. Now, bring me Potter."

Several Death Eaters walked down the line of cells, peering in at the occupants. When one found his cell, he sneered and opened the heavy door.

"Potter, time to meet your maker," he snarled, stepping to the side.

Harry slowly walked out of the cell and toward Voldemort. Stopping at a respectable distance, Harry's eyes met Voldemort's.

"Potter," Voldemort said calmly, "You know what is going to happen now. And you know what you are going to do."

"Yes, I do," Harry replied before sinking to his knees and pressing his head to the floor, "My Lord."

He heard several sharp intakes of breath following his comment. All he saw was the dark grey of the stone floor as he sat there with his forehead pressed to the floor. His breathing seemed extremely loud to his ears compared with the silence.

"Give me your left arm," Voldemort hissed down at the bowing teen.

Harry sat up to his knees and lifted his left arm, where Voldemort grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm around, exposing his inner forearm. Voldemort pressed his wand to the pale skin there and muttered, "_Morsmordre_."

From the tip of his wand blossomed black ink, it continued outward until a fully formed Dark Mark was branded on his flesh. And the pain of its appearance was amazing, but nowhere near the level of a Cruciatus. The skin around it was red and irritated.

"Rise," Voldemort hissed to Harry.

Harry stood to his feet and stood, his eyes locked with Voldemort's crimson gaze. Voldemort nodded at him, a smirk on his face. Harry nodded back, an understanding passing between the two former arch-rivals.

"I seem to have an opening in my Inner Circle," Voldemort said his voice casual, "Harry, you've been promoted. Welcome to the Inner Circle."

Harry smirked evilly, "It is most _definitely_ a privilege," he said bowing slightly at the waist.

Voldemort spun and walked up the stairs, the Death Eaters following him. As they reached the main chamber, Harry noticed several Aurors tied up against the same wall that they had been against when they arrived.

"And for an initiation," Voldemort hissed, looking at the Aurors, then he pointed at one, "Him. Find where all of your wands are."

The Auror he was pointing at paled considerably, and Harry was pleased to recognize the Auror that had beaten on him on the boat. Harry snarled ferally as he walked over to the man and hit him in the face several times, before stepping back and glancing at the Dark Lord.

"I need a wand," he said coolly, his eyes not leaving the Auror's face, "Or a knife."

Voldemort smirked, "As fun as it would be to see you mutilate that Auror, we are short on time as it is. Get the information, then kill him," he said as he handed Harry his own wand to the shock of the surrounding Death Eaters.

Harry took it, and felt that it would work almost as well as his own. He twirled it around in his fingers a couple times while staring at the Auror. Pointing the wand at the trembling Auror, Harry smirked.

"_Crucio_," he said with a vindictive glee, holding the spell for several minutes, reveling in the pained screams of the Auror.

Breaking the curse, Harry looked down at the Auror, "Where are our wands," he asked, squatting in front of the Auror and twirling in front of his face.

The Auror glared and scowled, "Fuck you, Potter," he said with a weak voice.

"_Crucio_," Harry incanted again, his face cracking with glee, as the dark power of the Unforgivable washed over him and drew him into its corruptive power.

He held the curse longer this time, his eyes never leaving the Auror's pained face as he screamed in agony. Ending the curse, Harry smirked darkly.

"Tell me what I want to know, and the pain will stop," he said cocking his head to one side, "That I promise."

The Auror was gasping in pain, his frightened eyes flashing around at the faces of the unmasked Death Eaters, then the masked ones, before his eyes flashed over to Voldemort then Harry.

"The wands, they're in the Vault, just over there," he said pointing at the Vault door, "The password is _Veritaserum_."

"See, was that so hard," Harry asked, standing again and turning back to the Dark Lord, who was looking at him with a raised eyebrow, he smacked his forehead and turned back to the Auror, "Oh, yeah, I forgot. _Avada Kedavra_."

The Auror slumped lifelessly against the wall, his bonds disappearing. Harry turned back to the Dark Lord and bowed, handing him his wand.

"Thank you, My Lord," he said smirking slightly.

Harry slipped around behind the Dark Lord and stood there, smirking at the looks of horror on the other Aurors' faces. The Dark Lord looked down at them, his gaze calculating, before he turned and pointed at a pair of Death Eaters.

"You two," he said, his eyes blazing, "Get their wands."

The two Death Eaters disappeared into the Vault after giving the password, reappearing minutes later, and holding twelve wands. They held them out, and the twelve picked theirs out, pocketing them, or in Harry's case, lovingly fingering it. After several weird looks from the Death Eaters, Harry gently tucked it into the waistband of his pants.

Voldemort looked at the collection of Death Eaters behind him before looking upwards, toward the wards. With a muttered string of Latin, the anti-apparation ward fell with a flash of blue, followed by the anti-portkey ward. Voldemort apparated away, after giving one last look at the prison. One of the Death Eaters walked over to Harry and grabbed his upper arm, side-along apparating him away.

He appeared in a dark foyer, where Voldemort was already seated in a large throne-like chair. The Death Eaters bowed at his feet, before standing and forming a half-circle behind him. He looked at Harry, and beckoned him forward with a finger. Harry walked forward and stopped beside the throne. Voldemort grabbed his left wrist and pressed a long finger to his Mark, causing it to burn. He released Harry's wrist, motioning him to join the rest of the Inner Circle.

Death Eaters apparated into the large meeting room, bowing to Voldemort then standing with their heads bowed. He watched as Voldemort stood, his gaze sweeping over the assembled Death Eaters.

"My Death Eaters," he said loudly, "Tonight, we have completed a successful raid against Azkaban and freed our brethren. But, in the midst of the fighting Rudolphus lost his life, though, you see a full Inner Circle before you. Indeed, we have gained the upper hand, we have gained a powerful ally and comrade. He shall be introduced to you all at a later date, when he has received the proper training.

"Now, as to the real reason I have called you," he said smirking, "I want you to go to the Wizarding World and prove who is the better faction, but just one word of advice, my friends, do not get caught. I will not be planning any more Azkaban breakouts. Now, go into the world, and show them why they fear the name Death Eaters."

A cacophony of apparation cracks, sounded within the chamber, leaving Voldemort alone, once again with his Inner Circle. He turned to the rest of the Inner Circle and nodded once.

"You are dismissed," he said to the Inner Circle, "Potter, stay behind."

The Inner Circle apparated away, leaving Harry standing with the Dark Lord. Voldemort walked over to him and stopped before the teen, his eyes narrowing in thought.

"You killed your relatives," he stated, "Impressive. Give me your wand."

Harry looked at him with a worried look in his eyes as Voldemort took the holly wand. He held it at eye-level, staring at it, until an audible crack sounded and Voldemort looked triumphant. He handed the wand back to Harry, who looked confused at him.

"There was the Ministry Tracking Charm, and an Unforgiveable Alert Charm," he explained to the teen, "Those are standard charms required on every wand by the Ministry. Yours also had a Dampening Charm, a Tracking Charm, and an Emotion Control Charm. All of which had Dumbledore's magical signature on it."

Harry's anger flared, and his eyes narrowed, _that bastard_, he thought to himself angrily. _There's just one other thing to add to the growing list of why Dumbledore should die_, he thought seething, _he had better hope that I don't come across him, or I will be forced to kill him._

His eyes refocused on the Dark Lord, who was looking amused. Harry guessed his anger must be extremely easy to read. Attempting to calm himself, the raven-haired boy raised an eyebrow curiously.

"What," he asked, "He's always meddling with my life. That's just another reason to kill that son of a bitch."

"Very well," Voldemort said smirking, "I shall show you to your room. In the morning, I shall send someone to take you shopping for some proper clothing. Then, that afternoon, I will introduce you to your teacher. They will teach you everything you need to know. You will not start training until the day after."

Harry nodded, before remembering something, "What date is it," he asked, looking at the Dark Lord.

"August fourth," Voldemort said, beginning to leave the meeting chamber, "Five days since your trial."

Harry nodded as he followed the Dark Lord through the winding hallways. The house, more of a manor, had a fairly basic floor-plan. They came to a well lit, and finely decorated wing. Voldemort led him down the wing, pointing out certain rooms.

"This is my study," Voldemort said, "I can generally be found here. Although, I recommend you leave me alone. Across from my study is the Library. I'm sure, you will find great use in there, I sure do."

Harry nodded, his eyes taking in the doors of the library. The doors were plain and black, with gleaming silver snake handles. Voldemort led him farther along and pointed to a room to his left.

"That is Bellatrix's room," he said with a gesture, then to the one across from it, "And that, Harry is your room."

Harry looked at the door to his room, glancing once at Voldemort before opening the door and stepping into the large room. He found himself standing in a large study, roughly the size of the Gryffindor Common Room. It was done in soft tones of golds and greens. Several bookshelves lined the walls, but their shelves were devoid of books. Sitting between two bookshelves was a wide, full length window. A pair of glass doors opened to a balcony outside. Harry's eyes took in the polished oak furniture, and the large desk.

He looked wide-eyed at Voldemort, who was standing in the doorway. Harry noticed another door, which he walked to and threw open, revealing a bedroom that was larger than his dorm in Gryffindor Tower. It too was done in soft golds and greens. A large four-poster bed sat against the far wall. The coverlet was a dark green, the sheets were gold silk, along with the pillows. As he walked closer to the bed, he estimated it could fit four people comfortably. He saw a large oak wardrobe, and a table against the wall, beneath a window.

As he wandered back into the study, he saw Voldemort perched in one of the arm-chairs. As Harry exited his bedroom, the Dark Lord looked up, his eyebrows raised inquisitively.

"Do you like your accommodations," he asked curiously, "They were designed for your comfort."

Harry smiled, his eyes looking around the room, "It's brilliant. It is perfect, can't make it any more comfortable," he said excitedly.

Voldemort nodded as he rose to his feet, "Good then. As I said someone will be here in the morning," he said as he walked toward the door.

Opening it, he slipped out, and the closing of the door left him in silence. His eyes looked around as he wandered back into the bedroom. There, he pulled his shirt and pants off, tossing them in a corner and leaving him in just his boxers. His eyes locked on another door, and he wandered over there, curiously. He opened it to reveal a large bathroom. The sunken bathtub rivaled that of the prefect's bathroom in Hogwarts. It was mostly gold, but the fixtures were silver.

He slipped back into the bedroom and slipped under the covers of the large bed, sinking into its soft warm, folds. _I wonder what happened to my school trunk and stuff_, he thought to himself before he fell asleep, _especially my invisibility cloak, Firebolt, and my photo album. Hmm, I must ask that tomorrow. Now is time to sleep._

And sleep he did.

(1) Order of the Phoenix, Chapter 35


	3. Chapter 3

**_The Allure of the Darkness_**

**Chapter 3**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any other characters from the Potterverse. If I did, the last three books would be different.**

Harry was awakened by a squeaky voice, and the fact that he was being shaken quite roughly. Grabbing his pillow, he pulled it over his head to muffle the voice.

"Lemme 'lone," he mumbled, weakly swatting at the source of his annoyance. "Jus' five mo' minutes."

"No, Master Harry. Dippy cannots dos that," the voice, Dippy, said. "Master Voldemort says to gets the Master Harry froms his bed. And that's what's Dippy does. Like a goods elf."

Ignoring the voice, he began falling back into slumber when a feminine voice cut into his thoughts.

"Dippy," the voice said. "I will take it from here. Tell the Dark Lord we will be down soon."

He heard the tell-tale crack of apparation as the house-elf left. He smiled slightly into his pillow. _Finally, I can sleep_, he thought to himself relaxing and forgetting about the other occupant in his room. Suddenly, the world tilted sharply as he was dumped unceremoniously out of his bed.

"Oof," he said as he thumped into the ground. "Bloody hell. What was that for?"

"The Dark Lord is expecting us, best not keep him waiting," the voice said as he was able to make out a blurry shape. "He will be quite upset, and unless you would like to be _Crucioed_, I would get ready. There are some robes on your table, put them on, and I shall see what I have to do to make them look better."

Harry blindly reached for his glasses, sliding them up his nose until he was peering out of them. He looked at the person responsible for getting him out of bed and was mildly surprised to see Bellatrix standing there, a smirk on her features as she watched him.

He glared darkly at her as he sat up and yawned, grabbing his wand, he pointed it into the air above him and muttered, "_Tempus_."

Fiery red digits appeared in the air above him. It read. **Monday, August 5, 1996. 4:42 a.m.** Harry groaned before flopping backwards. _They are insane_, he thought miserably, _bloody fucking insane. They would have to be to be awake at this hour in the morning._

"Potter, up," Bellatrix snapped. "_Aguamenti_."

The jet of ice cold water snapped him into wakefulness. Shouting in surprise, he leapt from the floor and stood there, his arms wrapped around his torso, shivering pitifully. He glared at her as she raised an eyebrow and sauntered toward the door leading to his study.

"You have ten minutes to shower before I come back in here," she said opening the door. "And you won't like what I will do when I return, so I suggest you get it done."

She slipped from the room, causing Harry to scamper into the bathroom and start up the bath. Clambering in, he quickly scrubbed his body and hair, watching in fascination as the dirt and grime was removed from his skin. Finishing, he climbed from the bath and dried himself off, leaving the bathroom and crossing to the bedroom. He saw the neatly folded stack of robes on the desk. He pulled them on, flushing in embarrassment when he noticed there was even a pair of boxers.

He looked in the mirror that was situated on the wall, liking what he saw. The robes were open in the front, revealing the black slacks and the green button up shirt beneath. Not to mention that the slacks were made of what appeared to be dragon-hide. The shirt was soft and thin, the breeze cutting right through it, he guessed the material to be Acromantula silk. The robe was also soft, but it was heavy, telling him that it was not Acromantula silk, or Dragon hide. But, he thought it might be unicorn hair. It's inner lining was all silver, and the edges were trimmed in silver.

He nodded to himself before crossing to the door that led to his study. Opening it, he looked at Bellatrix who sat in one of the armchairs, her fingers steepled in front of her face. She looked him up and down before rising fluidly from her seat and walking over to him. Her wand appeared into her hand as she tapped certain parts, causing them to lengthen or shorten. Finally she nodded, before summoning a pair of boots.

"Here," she said, pushing them into his hands. "And try to do something about your hair."

Harry sat on one of the chairs before pulling the boots on. He was surprised to feel them shrink to fit his foot as he laced them up tightly.

"I would, but it just happens to have a mind of its own," he snapped, rolling his eyes. "Trust me. I've tried."

She scowled before once again raising her wand and tapping it down on top of his head. He felt a cool, wet sensation on top of his head. Bellatrix smirked and nodded in satisfaction.

Harry glanced into one of the windows and saw his hair was actually lying flat and tamed. He looked back at her in amazement.

"I'll teach you that spell," she said with a small smirk. "But now, we need to get down to breakfast."

She led him through the corridors, until they came to a dining hall. A long table sat in the middle of the room, most of the places taken by what Harry assumed to be Inner Circle Death Eaters.

"Bella, Harry," Voldemort said, his crimson eyes latching onto the newcomers. "Glad you can make it."

Bellatrix and Harry bowed deeply, showing their respect to their lord. Straightening, they took two of the last three remaining chairs. Harry noticed the Daily Prophet laying face-down on the table. Voldemort, after seeing his gaze, slid the paper to him.

Picking it up, he began reading.

**Harry Potter: Escaped Convict**

**By Rita Skeeter**

**Late last night, there was yet **_**another**_** mass break-out at Azkaban Prison. One must wonder whether Azkaban is really as secure as the Ministry claims if there have been three break-outs in the last three years.**

**Among the escapees was Harry Potter, the boy who everyone thought was their friend. As you all know, Harry Potter killed his relatives earlier this summer, and was sentenced to life in Azkaban without parole. According to eye-witness reports, He-who-must-not-be-named himself came to remove his Death Eaters, and Potter. Aurors on guard at the prison were unpleasantly surprised by Harry Potter's actions, as the boy-who-killed joined the very man who murdered his parents fifteen years ago.**

**The Death Eaters who escaped were no other than Marcus Avery, who claimed to be under the Imperious during the First War; Antonin Dolohov, who was arrested for countless charges of muggle torture, and the torture of many of the Light's supporters; Andrew Jugson, arrested for the murder of many muggles; Rabastan Lestrange, arrested for the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom; Rudolphus Lestrange, arrested for the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom; Walden Macnair, former employee of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures; Lucius Malfoy, former governor on Hogwart's Board of Governors, and advisor to the Minister; Nicolas Mulciber, Imperious Specialist; and Augustus Rookwood, convicted of passing along Ministry information to a known Dark Lord.**

**If you have any information regarding these persons, we greatly urge you to give it to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. If any of these persons are seen, you are strongly advised to not confront them, but contact the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.**

**For more information on the First War, go to page 3**

**For more information on Harry Potter, go to page 4-6**

**For more information on the Death Eaters, go to page 7**

**For more information on He-who-must-not-be-named, go to page 8**

Harry looked up from the paper, finally noticing the looks he was receiving. He raised an eyebrow at the other Death Eaters, _what are they looking at? Haven't they ever seen someone read a newspaper before? At least Rita got it right this time_, he thought to himself.

"What," he asked to the table in general. "I'm just seeing what kind of publicity I have today."

Several of the Death Eaters chuckled; even Voldemort smirked at his comment. Harry then noticed the empty seat further down the table. He glanced at Voldemort, confused.

"As I was going to say," Voldemort said. "Before the arrival of Bellatrix and Harry, Theodore Nott Sr. died in St. Mungo's yesterday. His wounds inflicted in the Department of Mysteries were too much for his body to handle. So, I find we are, yet again, shorthanded. Any ideas as to who should be raised to the Inner Circle?"

Another female Death Eater, who Harry did not recognize stood to her feet, "I have one, my lord," she said bowing her head.

"Who is it, Alecto," Voldemort asked. _Ah, Alecto Carrow_, Harry thought to himself, _which means the man who looks like her to her left must be Amycus Carrow, her twin brother._

"Severus Snape, my lord," she said before slowly sinking back into her chair as several murmurs of agreement passed around the table.

"Ah, yes," Voldemort said. "Severus. My first choice, if I was positive that I knew where his loyalties lay."

Harry thought for a couple moments before he stood, "My Lord, if I may make a suggestion," he said bowing his head slightly to the Dark Lord.

"Speak," Voldemort said.

"I can talk to him, privately, and tell him that I accepted the mark to spy on you," Harry began, smirking slightly. "But it was too much for me, and I wanted to escape your 'clutches,' so to speak. He will either go to you, or go to Dumbledore. And as I see it, either instance would be a winning situation. You either get another Inner Circle member, or you find a spy, and get me in to spy on Dumbledore."

"And if he asks why you killed your relatives," Voldemort asked curiously. "What will you tell him?"

"That I was being possessed by you, of course," Harry replied.

"It is a brilliant plan," Bellatrix said from the Dark Lord's right, "But one small problem. Severus is a Master Occlumens, and to gain such mastery, one must master Legilimency. And if you recall, he doesn't need a wand to read your mind."

"Bellatrix," Harry said, looking at the witch, "What did the Dementors do to your mind? Does your Occlumency work the same as it used to? Or did it change?"

Bellatrix stared at him for several moments, "It changed, what is your point," she asked him suspiciously, her eyes narrowed.

Harry glanced at Voldemort, who motioned for him to continue, "Well, any exposure to Dementors changes a person's mind. I believe that is why I had such a difficult time trying to learn Occlumency from Snape, because in third year, I was strongly affected by the Dementors. Maybe, I couldn't learn that form of Occlumency _because_ of the Dementor's influence. It isn't a question of whether or not I can learn it or not, I am a quick study. It just was the wrong form," he explained to the table.

Voldemort seemed to understand, as a truly malicious smile slid onto his snakish features. _Ah, there you go_, Harry thought, _now you understand. And you must like it, because I see the patented 'bad-guy' glint in your eye._

"Bellatrix," Voldemort said suddenly, "Is it safe to assume what your job will be today?"

"Yes, My Lord," she said bowing her head slightly, "Was there anything else you require us for today? I would like to get started as soon as possible."

"You two are dismissed," he said nodding at the two. "And I expect a passable Occlumens tonight. Do not disappoint me."

Bellatrix and Harry rose to their feet, bowing at the Dark Lord before leaving the meeting room. He fell into step behind her as she led him through the manor. When they came to a plain wooden door, Harry was momentarily confused because everything else in the manor seemed to be somewhat grandiose, but not this door.

"This is the training room," Bellatrix explained to him, after noticing his confused expression. "The door is almost constantly replaced, so we all decided just to keep replacing it with a cheaper, yet sturdy replacement."

She pushed the door open and led him into a large, plain granite room. Against one wall, a rack of wooden weapons sat, and another wall was occupied with unmoving practice dummies. She drew her wand, and a pair of cushions appeared in the center of the floor. She walked over and sank onto one of them, gesturing at the other for him.

When he sat, she nodded, "Good. Now, what do you know about Occlumency," she asked him calmly.

"It is used to keep you mind free of outside invasion," Harry began, slowly. "Usually it is performed in a state of meditation, a completely empty frame of mind. Beyond that, I am clueless."

"Good, then you have less to unlearn," she stated simply. "Yes, Occlumency is used to protect your mind from outside invasion. But, no, not all of it is performed in a state of complete calm. The form that I now practice, and that you are going to learn, is performed in a constant state of chaos. Instead of clearing your mind, you need to immerse it in your memories. All at once, just like if you were back with the Dementors. Those are the effects you need to recreate, because it causes your thoughts to be unseeable to any outside forces. To outsiders, it just appears as either a confusing myriad of colors, or oppressing darkness."

Harry nodded, thinking of the best way to bring about the ends that she was describing. He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to relax, bringing the thoughts of the Dementors to the forefront of his mind. It was easier to hold than he thought, surprising himself.

"Do you have it," Bellatrix asked him, as she was looking at her nails. "Easier than you thought, huh?"

"Yes," he said, slightly confused. "What's the catch?'

"Potter, you insult me," she said rolling her eyes as she dropped her hand. "What makes you think there is a catch? You just have to stop my Legilimency attack. Nothing big."

Harry stared at her, mentally trying to calculate her magical strength, "Fine. Do your worst," he said bringing the Dementor Mind-Set, as he was now taking to calling it, to the forefront of his mind. "Ok, go."

Bellatrix looked him in the eyes, before raising her wand.

"_Legilimens_," she said.

As the spell took him, he felt the faint tingling of an invasion of his mind. But instead of the feeling intensifying, he thought harder about the Dementors. In retaliation, he felt the invasive pressure increase. It went like that until Harry was struggling to maintain his defense against the onslaught of Bellatrix's attack. Sweat beaded his brow as she finally broke the connection.

"Good," she said calmly, looking at him as he panted. "Not good enough to withstand the Dark Lord, but it should be enough to hold back Severus."

_Not good enough_, he thought as he tried to catch his breath. _I did everything in my power and she says it is not good enough. The nerve of that woman._

She smirked as though she had heard his thoughts. "Just keep practicing and you will get better, Potter. And keep it up at all times. I will test you," she added grinning maniacally. "Oh, don't frown. It'll be fun."

Harry groaned before flopping backwards onto the floor. "Bloody hell. You are mad as a hatter," he said as he closed his eyes.

"And so are you, only on a less noticeable scale," she said smirking as she rose fluidly to her feet. "Come, it is time to present you to the Dark Lord."

"Now," he asked, confused. "Didn't we just start?"

"No," she replied amused. "We've been going at this for hours. I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did, either through exhaustion or hunger."

As if on cue, his stomach gave a loud growl, much to his embarrassment, and Bellatrix's amusement. He glared at her before sitting up and climbing to his feet. _The nerve of that woman_, he thought darkly as images of him strangling her crossed his eye, _much better. Now, what was I doing again, oh, yes, being upset for some reason. Why does it escape me now? Wow, I really must be mad. Mad, such a fun word. Ma-a-ad. Oops, should probably stop now, I'm getting funny looks._

He was brought from his internal conversation by the strange glances Bellatrix was sending his way. He smiled slightly before passing through the large, double doors they had exited earlier. But, unlike earlier, the room was only occupied by the Dark Lord.

"Bellatrix, Harry," he said calmly as he looked at the two Death Eaters. "I assume you have made great progress."

"Yes, milord," they both said at once.

The Dark Lord smirked, "Excellent. Harry, please come here. I believe we need to test your Occlumency."

Harry barely suppressed a wince before he walked forward to the Dark Lord and knelt before him. Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it at Harry, right between his eyes.

"Legilimens," he hissed.

With that uttered word, Harry valiantly brought his Occlumency to bear. He managed to hold Voldemort off for several moments, but eventually the Dark Lord broke through his barriers. When he did so, he browsed around for a couple moments before breaking the spell. Harry groaned and slumped forward, his forehead pressed against the cool marble floor.

"Better than I expected," he admitted. "I congratulate you Bellatrix. It seems as though you are a better teacher than I first thought."

Bellatrix bowed her head in a slight bout of embarrassment. "Thank you, milord," she said quietly, her head still bowed. "You honor me with your praise."

Harry took that time to sit up and wait for his head to stop spinning. When it did stop, he rose to his feet and swayed slightly.

"Milord," he said quietly. "When would you like me to speak with Snape?"

Voldemort looked at the weary teen. "Not tonight," he said after a couple moments. "You are in no state to stop a flobberworm, let alone Severus. You will do that tomorrow, I will call a general Death Eater meeting, and you can talk to him afterward."

Harry nodded as he bowed again, "Thank you, milord," he said as he straightened back up.

"Harry, you are dismissed," Voldemort said. "Go get some rest, I need you functional tomorrow."

Harry bowed, and turned away, walking with an exhausted air about him. He wandered the corridors until he came upon his quarters. Entering, he didn't even look around, but instead went straight to his room, where he was barely able to strip to his boxers before falling limply into the bed and passed out.

Meanwhile:

"Bellatrix," Voldemort drawled, turning his crimson gaze toward the dark-haired woman. "I want you to take him to Knockturn Alley tomorrow. He needs his mask and robes, along with another wand, and robes. Can I trust you to do this, or do I need to appoint someone else?"

To Bellatrix, this translated as: "You will do this, or I will kill you and assign it to someone else."

"It would be my honor, milord," she said, smiling slightly as she looked at the polished floor. "You honor me with this assignment."

Voldemort continued staring at her stonily, "Very good. I expect the best from you," he said turning from her. "You are dismissed."

Bellatrix bowed her way out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

_**The Allure of the Darkness**_

**Chapter 4**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any other characters from the Potterverse. If I did, the last three books would be different.**

Harry opened his eyes the next morning before the house-elf had even entered his room to wake him. He stretched languidly before rising from his bed and disappearing into the bathroom. Close to a half-hour later, he emerged from the bathroom clad in nothing but the towel wrapped around his waist.

"Nice," a female voice said, startling him from his thoughts. "Quidditch really is good for you."

"Bloody," he said, grabbing his towel tighter. "Bloody hell, Bellatrix. What are you doing here?"

"Coming to wake you up," the dark-haired witch said, looking him up and down, "But evidently that wasn't necessary."

"Ok, I'm awake," he said quickly, immediately starting to flush, "Can you leave now?"

She laughed before rising from the chair she had been sitting in, "If I must," she said smirking evilly as she crossed the room to the door. "But, I am so enjoying the view."

Harry growled, grabbing his wand from the table next to him. "_Crucio_," he spat.

The spell harmlessly impacted the door behind her as she exited the room. _Bloody women_, he thought to himself darkly, _always barging in where they don't belong._

He dressed quickly in a set of clothing lying on his bed. _Feels like déjà vu_, he thought to himself, _could it be because I did this yesterday? Nope, couldn't possibly be. Shut up, Harry. Why do I talk to myself? Oh, yes, because the people I once respected and looked up to kept me on the verge of insanity, it was just my __**loving**__ relatives that helped push me over the edge. Wahoo!_

He pushed open his bedroom door, entering the large study, to see Bellatrix sitting in her chair that he was coming to think of as hers. He nodded toward her before striding fully into the room.

As he entered, she had risen gracefully from her chair and walked over to him. She looked the robes over before once again tailoring them to his frame. As she did so, he looked around the room, frowning at the empty bookshelves.

"Those bookshelves are strangely empty," he said more to himself than her. "I'll really have to do something about that."

"Hmm," he heard her answer in response as she tapped her wand to his head, tidying his hair. "You'll be able to."

He looked at her, his eyebrow raised, "And how do you propose that? I am a fugitive, probably higher on the 'Dead-or-Alive' list than the Dark Lord," he said rolling his eyes, as he looked toward the window.

"We go to Knockturn Alley of course," she replied stepping back and viewing her handiwork. "We were supposed to go yesterday, but other plans interfered."

He grinned, "Wicked. I've wanted to check out Knockturn Alley in greater detail," he said.

"Come then," she said as she tossed him a spare cloak, black of course, "We must be off. Places to see, things to buy, Aurors to kill."

Harry rolled his eyes as he secured the cloak with a simple silver clasp. His actions awarded him with a stinging hex. Rubbing his thigh, he glared at her as she sheathed her wand.

"Come Potter," she drawled coolly, "We have much to do, and little time to do it."

With that, she turned and walked from the room, leaving him with the choice to follow her or get left behind. It was an easy decision.

He sprinted from the room and down the hall after noticing that she was already rounding the next corner. He quickly caught up with her and slid gracefully into a brisk walk beside her. His nonchalant air might have succeeded if he hadn't been breathing so hard, and sweating slightly.

It earned him an amused smirk. He rolled his eyes.

"The Dark Lord is already aware of our departure," Bellatrix said suddenly, breaking the silence, "So we will just go straight to the Apparation point. I want you to remember how it feels to Apparate, so when the time comes to teach you, it will be so much easier."

Harry nodded, blinking slightly as he did so.

"Good," she said.

They continued on in silence for several minutes more, the sound of their feet hitting the stone floor accompanying their movements. Rounding another corner, they came upon an elegant ebony door inscribed with a twisting snake. It had no door handle.

_Aren't doors supposed to have handles_, he thought to himself, _how are we supposed to open the blasted thing? Voodoo? That's a fun word_. . .

He would have continued on that vein of thought if he hadn't been interrupted by Bellatrix as she walked forward and pressed her palm to the door. He heard an internal locking mechanism engage before the door swung silently open at her touch.

_Now that is a door-lock_, he though, _wonder what triggers it_. . .

As if hearing his thoughts, Bellatrix began speaking. "The door will only open for anyone bearing a Dark Mark, or most importantly, it's magic. It's a safe guard."

Harry nodded as they passed through the door, entering a plain stone room. He could feel the hum of magic radiating from the stones. _Must be a protection spell_, he thought, _wouldn't want anyone to be able to muscle their way inside._

Bellatrix beckoned him over to where she stood, when he got to her, she held out her arm for him to grab. Knitting his brow in confusion, he cocked his head to the side slightly.

"Grab my arm and hold tight," she said as she pulled her hood up, "And put your hood up."

He quickly pulled up his hood, effectively shrouding his features in shadow, before reaching out and grasping her arm tightly.

He suddenly felt as though he was being squeezed through a very small garden hose. The feeling seemed to last an eternity, but it was strangely not accompanied by any pain, when it ended; he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

Looking around, he noticed that they were in Diagon Alley. Upon closer inspection, he realized that the spot the two were standing on was situated between Flourish & Blott's and Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

"That wasn't fun," he muttered loud enough for her to hear, "I don't think I will like that form of travel."

"It's better than a portkey," Bellatrix added, muttering herself, "Or floo."

"Eh," Harry said, "I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right," she replied as she began walking away, "Make sure your hood is up. I really don't feel like fighting all that much today."

"Okay," he said, rolling his eyes, this time unseen by the dark witch, "Fine. Why didn't we just apparate into Knockturn Alley?"

"Aurors have surveillance on incoming apparation," she explained as the duo stepped from between the two buildings and into the hubbub of people going about their regular business, "We would be spotted then captured on the spot."

"Ah," he said, looking around warily, "That explains it."

After the first few looks to see what they were, people paid the two hooded and cloaked people no mind. Frowning slightly, Harry looked around the Alley and spotted similarly robed figures.

They slipped through the crowds with effortless ease, working their way first towards Gringotts, and from there, to Knockturn Alley.

As the duo entered the large marble building, Harry was overcome, slightly, with a sense of dread. Furrowing his eyebrows, he looked around, suddenly very thankful that he had a hood and it was up.

"Bellatrix," Harry said, trying to look at everyone.

"I know," she replied, "I feel it too."

He remained silent, instead, ducking his head slightly. He could feel his wand pressing into his waist, but it brought him no reassurances this time. The two walked up to the nearest teller, and stood silently until the goblin looked at them.

"What do you want, humans," the goblin, Gutknife according to his name plaque, asked harshly staring at the two before him.

Bellatrix produced a black bag from the folds of her robes, "We would like to withdraw some money. And assurances that you never saw us," she said quietly to the creature at the dais.

The goblin picked up the bag and peered inside, before looking at them again, nodding, he gestured for the two to follow him.

Following the inhuman creature, they journeyed underground toward where Harry knew the carts to reside. When the came upon the chamber, Gutknife led them toward a cart and climbed into his seat in the front.

"Sit," he ordered.

Harry immediately followed his command, but Bellatrix hesitated just long enough to seem as though it was her idea to sit all along. As soon as she was fully seated, the cart thundered away, toward the bowels of the bank.

When they stopped, Harry looked at the vault number uncomprehendingly. His vault was number 687, and this vault was not 687. His brow knit in confusion as he looked over at Bellatrix.

"This is the Lestrange Vault," she said, stepping from the cart regally, "I need a few things before we continue onto other things."

He nodded and watched as she disappeared into the vault. He waited patiently for several minutes, with Gutknife, for her to return. After a long wait, she emerged from the vault holding a bulging pouch of coins.

Smiling to herself, she regained her seat in the cart, and they once again rocketed away into the darkness. After an even shorter ride, they came to a stop outside of his trust vault, number 687.

Harry rose to his feet and stepped from the cart, looking down at the small goblin that had followed him out. The two stopped before the heavy stone door, the goblin looking up at him.

"Key," Gutknife commanded, holding out his hand.

Harry reached into the collar of his robes, withdrawing a thin cord, on which his golden vault key hung. Pulling it over his head, he handed the tiny key to Gutknife.

Sliding open a part of the vault door, Gutknife slid the key into the door and twisted it, causing the sound of the locking mechanism to reverberate around the cavernous tunnels. The door silently swung open, towards the two.

When it was wide enough, Harry stepped through the door and grabbed as many galleons as he could fit in his money pouch.

As they traveled back to the surface, it was with a Harry with a much heavier money pouch.

Stepping from the cart, Harry nodded politely to the goblin as they exited the room. Just before re-entering the lobby, Harry double-checked that his hood was totally obscuring his features.

The two stepped into the lobby and walked swiftly through the crowd of people. The previous sense of dread was back in full force. Hidden in the shadows of his hood, Harry's eyes darted back and forth, searching for the source of dread that he was feeling. _What is going on_, he thought to himself, _it almost feels as though I'm back in the Department of Mysteries. Oh, Sirius. . ._

He abruptly forced his mind away from those thoughts as they exited the bank. He looked around, slightly nervous, as they cleared the double doors of the large marble building.

"I don't like the feel of this," he muttered quietly toward his silent companion, "I don't like this at all."

"Quiet," she hissed at him, "Stay alert."

Harry abruptly fell silent, bringing his Occlumency to the forefront of his mind. They walked swiftly through the crowds of Diagon Alley, silently making their way toward their destination, Knockturn Alley.

They slipped from sight into the mouth of Knockturn Alley, the noise and hubbub being left behind quickly as they entered the much darker, quieter avenue.

He breathed a sigh of relief as the dreadful feeling vanished, beside him; he could feel Bellatrix relax also.

"Come," Bellatrix said as she led him into a dreary building, the sign outside proclaiming it as 'Varkovski Wands,' "We must get you a back-up wand. Or, in your case, it would have to be a main wand for any illicit activities you may be involved in."

Harry knit his brow, cocking his head to the side, "I need a Death Eater wand," he asked, blinking a few times.

"In theory, yes," she said, rolling her eyes, "If you are going to try to spy on Dumbledork, then you need to appear the part of a repentant boy, not one that still practices the Dark Arts."

"Ah," Harry said, recognition dawning, "I need a wand for Dark Arts, so my current wand will be clean when checked."

"Such is the way of the cloak and dagger," a male voice said from the shadows to their right.

Both Death eaters spun and pointed their wands at the person, who raised his hands in surrender, or to show that he was unarmed. Either case caused the two to relax only marginally.

"It would be highly appreciated if you would lower your wands, I have no wand," he said, gesturing at his person.

"You may not have a wand," Harry said, narrowing his hidden emerald eyes, "But that doesn't guarantee our safety."

"He's a sharp one, Bella," the man said, turning toward Bellatrix, "The Dark Lord made a very good decision with this one."

Bellatrix sheathed her wand before removing her hood, a small smirk on her features.

"What gave me away this time Edvard," Bellatrix asked, looking at him.

"You are the only female I know of that refers to Albus Dumbledore as 'Dumbledork,'" he said and then turned back toward Harry, adding, "Who is your young friend?"

"You can lower your hood," Bellatrix told Harry.

Hesitating slightly, Harry reached up with the hand not grasping his wand to whip back his hood revealing his features. Edvard looked at him for a long minute before smiling.

"Well met, young Harry," he said, reaching out his hand to shake.

With a confused look, Harry reached out and grasped the man's hand warily, looking to Bellatrix for an introduction.

"Harry, meet Edvard Varkovski," she said, gesturing to the older man as they shook, "Edvard, you obviously know Harry, so I won't bother with an introduction."

The man dropped Harry's hand after a moment of shaking. The teen decided that if Bellatrix was relaxing with this man, then it was safe for him to do so. He slipped his wand into the waistband of his jeans.

"Edvard, you're a relatively intelligent person," Bellatrix said smiling slightly, "I'm sure you can tell what we're here for . . . though if you cannot . . ."

"Silence," Edvard barked at the smirking woman, "I need none of your sarcasm. If you cannot control yourself, wait outside."

Harry was momentarily confused for a moment before he realized that this was a running joke between the two.

"Come, young Harry," Edvard said, gesturing toward the back of the shop, "We shall make you a wand that challenges the power of Poseidon's Trident."

Harry and Bellatrix accompanied the man into the back of his darkly lit shop. When they entered what appeared to be a workroom, lights burst into life, revealing the clean surfaces and well-lit atmosphere, very dissimilar to the room they had just left.

Edvard walked over to a large closet pressed against the wall and drew open the doors, revealing hundreds and hundreds of vials. Reaching out, he plucked a random vial from the mass, shutting the door as he did so. Walking over to the large stone table in the center of the room, he uncorked the vial and upended its contents in the shallow depression in the center of the table.

He looked over at Harry, gesturing for him to come closer. Harry did so, feeling a bit of trepidation for a moment before coming within range of the potion itself. Edvard handed Harry a silver knife, raising an eyebrow and gesturing at the potion.

"I need some blood," Edvard said, "To see what properties your wand would need to take for compatibility."

"Oh," Harry said dumbly, before taking the blade and slicing the tip of his finger.

He allowed his blood to drip into the potion, causing it to flare gold briefly before his finger healed, preventing anymore blood from coming into contact with the now golden potion. He handed the silver blade back to the man near him.

Edvard took the blade and dipped the tip into the potion before touching a rune on the edge of the table, causing it to flare to life. Harry soon noticed that the table had seven runes surrounding the central depression. Edvard quickly had all seven glowing softly.

Passing his wand over the table, Edvard began speaking a long string of Latin, causing the runes to pulse with light. With each pulse, an item would appear atop a rune as if conjured. After much pulsing, each rune had an item sitting atop it.

A smile slid onto Edvard's features when he put all the properties of the items together. He knew that this wand would be infamous.

"Well, young Harry," Edvard began, his smile slowly growing, "It seems as though your wand will be more powerful than I originally thought."

"Why," Harry said, confused slightly.

"Well, you have two types of wand blanks here," Edvard explained, gesturing at a sickly black piece of wood and a white piece of wood so white it appeared to glow even in the soft light of the room, "The dark one is wood from the _nemus ex letum_, the tree of death, whereas, the white wood is from the _nemus ex anima_, the tree of life."

"Balance," Bellatrix said idly, scrunching up her face in thought, "He has a wand with a balanced shaft. Interesting . . . do go on Edvard."

"He also has many different properties to this wand," Edvard began again, nodding toward the teen, "He has the deadly poison of Basilisk Venom tempered by the all-healing Phoenix Tears—" he gestured at each item "—then the all-consuming darkness of the Dementor Bone tempered by the unflinching purity of the Unicorn Horn. Then it has the pure neutrality and speed of Quicksilver. This is indeed an odd wand."

With that, the man picked up his own wand and tapped the surface of the golden potion, causing it to begin glowing steadily. Edvard gently picked up the vial of Basilisk Venom and poured it into the potion, causing vapors of acrid yellow to billow from the potion.

The venom was soon followed by the Phoenix tears, which puffed a beautiful violet vapor. Harry watched, confused, as the potion never grew in size with the addition of the new ingredients. The Dementor Bone was picked up and slowly slipped into the potion, vanishing in a puff of black vapors. The Unicorn horn quickly followed it, pure white vapor signifying its addition to the potion. The Quicksilver was quickly poured in, emitting a haze of silver vapors as it did so.

Edvard gestured at Harry to approach the table again, which he did, staring at the glowing potion with unveiled curiosity. He once gold potion had shimmers of yellow, violet, black, white, and silver swirling through it. The silver knife was once again pressed into his hand.

"I need some more blood, young Harry," Edvard said, "A very generous amount this time. We must have the wand bond with you after all."

Harry grabbed the knife and stared at its gleaming blade for a moment before opening his hand and pressing the blade into the palm, drawing it along as he did so. The blood poured forth from his hand and ran into the potion in a steady stream. Edvard soon grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from the potion.

"This one won't heal on its own," Edvard said, turning to the potion, "Bella can patch you up."

Glaring at the back of the man, Bellatrix stepped forward and grabbed his wrist, looking at the cut with disdain. Tapping it with her wand, the cut flared briefly before shrinking and vanishing altogether.

"He never cleans up his own messes," she muttered, glaring at Edvard again, as she stowed her wand away.

Edvard chuckled as he waved his wand over the central potion once again, chanting yet another long string of Latin, the potion flared gold then seemed to evaporate into a hovering cloud of phosphorescent gas. With a gesture of his wand, he tapped the two pieces of wood.

"_Colligo_," he said firmly watching the phosphorescent gas as it began to slowly move toward the two blanks of wood.

Stepping back from the worktable, Edvard turned toward the pair who were watching the whole process with piqued interest.

"I would look away now," Edvard said.

"Wh—" Harry began, only to be cut off by a bright flare of light that seemed to burn into his retinas, "Gah!"

Edvard and Bellatrix lowered their arms from where they had been placed to protect their eyes from the blast of bright light. Bellatrix let out a chuckle when she looked over at Harry to see him bent over, rubbing at his eyes furiously.

"Stop rubbing, you'll only make it worse," Edvard groused, rolling his eyes, "Here, let me."

Whipping out his wand, which neither had known he had on him, he pointed the shaft of pale wood at the teen and said, "_Redintegro_," a yellow spell flew from his wand and struck the teen in the head.

Harry blinked a few times as his vision rapidly returned to him. Looking up, he spotted Edvard re-hiding his wand. Narrowing his eyes, Harry's hand darted to his waist, where his own wand was resting.

"Easy, young Harry," Edvard said, raising his hand placatingly, "I was only fixing your eyes."

"It's true, Potter," Bellatrix piped in from her position behind the wandcrafter, "I had my eyes, and wand, on him as he did so. If he would have used anything else, he would be dead before he muttered the last syllable."

Harry looked at Bellatrix, and noted that she truly did have her wand out and pointed at the back of the wandcrafter. Sighing, he slowly moved his hand away from his waist, and wand.

Edvard shook his head and walked over to the table, picking up a long, sleek wand from the table. After a close inspection, he flipped the wand and pressed the tip of his own into the bottom of the handle. Scrunching up his face in concentration, his wand glowed red briefly before dying back to normal.

Removing his wand, Edvard examined the wand once again before turning and holding it out handle-first toward Harry.

"There. It is finished," he said as Harry took the wand, "One of the best I have had the pleasure of making, if I do say so myself."

When the wand touched Harry's hand, he felt a wave of raw power wash through him. He felt it ebb and flow much like that of the ocean, pulsing in time with his own heartbeat.

The two other magic wielders in the room felt the pulsing of his magic as he gripped the wand. Edvard's eyes had by that point widened almost comically as he watched the teen standing before him produce a visible aura.

Harry seemed to be surrounded by a field of pitch black, broken up only by the slashes of green, silver, red, and gold held within. It truly was a beautiful thing, frightening, but beautiful.

"Wow," Harry said as the feeling died down to its usual level and his aura faded to nothing, "That was a rush."

Bellatrix gulped slightly, knowing that with a wizard as powerful as Harry on his side, the Dark Lord will rule the world. Any doubts she had about the power the teen before her held were wiped from her mind. She shared a knowing look with Edvard as the teen trailed his fingers down the black shaft of the wand, his fingers coiling on the white handle. Strips of white spiraled their way from the handle to the tip of the wand, appearing only if the lighting was just right.

"How much will this cost me," Harry asked, his eyes still never leaving the wand.

"I work for the Dark Lord," Edvard said smoothly, "It doesn't cost anything. I even had fun making this one."

Edvard walked over to a large trunk that was resting on the floor. Flipping the lid open with his hand, he reached inside and removed some chunks of black dragon hide. He tossed them to the teen before kicking the trunk closed.

Harry deftly snatched the dragon hide chunks before they hit him in the face. Looking closer, he noted that they were wand holsters. He looked back at Edvard curiously, his head tilting to the side.

"You can't wear your wand tucked into your waistband all the time," Edvard explained with a shrug, "Many a good wand have been broken due to the carelessness of their wielders."

"Oh. Thank you then," Harry said, attaching one to the waistband of his pants, sliding his holly and phoenix feather wand into it.

The other, he attached to his left forearm, right atop the dark mark. He slid his new work-of-art into that holster. _It will make for a fast draw, at least_, he thought to himself as he stared at the item before slipping his sleeve over it, _I won't be caught off guard this time._

"Thank you, Edvard," Bellatrix said, breaking the silence, "The Dark Lord will be pleased, and as always, your services are appreciated."

"I live to serve, Bella," Edvard said with a slight bow.

"Until next time, Edvard," Bella said, turning, "Come, Potter. We've wasted too much time as it is."

Harry rolled his eyes as he donned his hood, yet again, and followed the Dark Witch from the shop. They swept through Knockturn Alley, like they owned the place, but for all Harry knew, Bellatrix may very well own it.

She led him to another shop, nestled in the natural shadows of the Alley. Harry noted amusedly that what had once made him nervous about Knockturn Alley now comforted him.

Looking up, he quickly read the name of the shop and was surprised to find out that it was the only shop he had ever previously been in. Borgin and Burkes.

The man Harry recognized as Borgin stood behind the counter, watching them. Bellatrix walked toward him, reaching into her robes for the large money pouch she had withdrawn from Gringotts earlier.

"Hello Lady Black," Borgin greeted her, warily, "What do you need today?"

"He needs a whole new set of robes," Bellatrix said jerking her thumb back toward the teen, "Casual and dress robes. He also needs a 'kit.'"

"Ah, new recruit," Borgin said, a greedy glint appearing in his eyes, "It will be for the usual fee, of course."

"Yes, of course," Bellatrix said, staring down the man, "And we need them now."

"Do you have his measurements," Borgin asked, looking at her, "I cannot do anything without his measurements."

Bellatrix slid a piece of paper across the table to the criminal dealer. Borgin nodded and pocketed the slip of paper.

"It shall take me a few minutes, Lady Black," he said, "Feel free to browse my merchandise."

With that, the man vanished into the back, leaving Harry alone with Bellatrix. He had stood there, silent, as she had dealt with the slippery man.

"Is he always so . . . straightforward," Harry asked, quietly, looking toward a shelf holding several books.

"I'm afraid so," Bellatrix replied, looking at him, "Don't touch anything, either; you may not survive long enough to scream in pain."

He rolled his eyes.

Borgin reappeared, grasping a bag in one hand. He looked between the two as he placed it on the glass counter.

"Pay up," he said, looking at Bellatrix, "I don't do anything for free."

Bellatrix dropped a large handful of gold on the counter, before swiping the bag and passing it to Harry.

"Put the mask in your pocket, then shrink the rest," she said to him while Borgin greedily counted the money she had placed on the counter.

Harry reached into the bag and was surprised to see that there was far more stuff than it originally appeared to hold. Resting on top of all of the clothing was a simple white half-mask. He pulled it out and slipped it into his robes before drawing his new wand and shrinking the bag with a muttered, "_Reducio_."

Stowing the bag in his robes, he felt the mask pressing into his leg where it sat in his pocket. He looked over at Bellatrix, and watched as she slowly drew her wand.

Pointing it at the shopowner, she began talking, "I'm sorry, Mr. Borgin. _Obliviate_. You remember making the sale, and that a pair of people came in, but you cannot remember their identity," she slipped her wand back into her robes and gestured toward the door.

Harry immediately began walking in that direction, feeling better about his purchases. He glanced behind him at the shadowed form of the Dark Witch, then back forward only to spot Dumbledore along with Kingsley Shacklebolt, Alastor Moody, and Nymphadora Tonks.

They spotted him at the same time.

From behind, he heard Bellatrix whip off her hood, speaking a spell as she did so.

"_Crucio_," she spat, the bright red spell leaving her wand and flying the distance between the two groups quickly, "Hello, Dumbles. Nice day, wouldn't you say?"

She looked over at him and motioned putting a mask on. His eyes widened momentarily before he reached into his pocket and removed the necessary item and placed it upon his face, then removed his hood, revealing his tidy hair and masked features. He was suddenly glad that she had fixed his hair earlier, it would have been a dead give-away.

Dumbledore calmly levitated a piece of stone into the path of the spell, staring at Bellatrix emotionlessly as he did so. Harry slowly pulled his new wand from its sheath, settling into a dueling stance in the process.

"Where's Harry, Bellatrix," he asked the dark-haired witch, "We must find him."

"Oh. You didn't come to play then," Bellatrix asked with a mock hurt voice, "You're only looking for widdle baby Potter. It makes Bella sad, and very angry. _Avada Kedavra_."

The sickly green spell didn't fly at Dumbledore as everyone had anticipated, instead it flew and struck Alastor, knocking the now dead Auror to the ground in a heap.

"Bitch," Kingsley Shacklebolt yelled drawing his own wand, "_Diffindo_."

The Cutting Curse flew through the air toward the witch, who was at that time trying to deal with Dumbledore. Seeing his chance to test his new wand, Harry flew into action.

"_Protego Proximus_," he said, a blue shield coming into existence between Bellatrix and the spell, which splashed against the shield harmlessly, "Don't you know, cursing someone's back is dishonorable."

"Ironic," Kingsley spat pointing his wand at Harry, "A Death Eater spouting ideals of Honor."

"_Avada Kedavra_," Harry intoned, moving onto the offensive against the dark-skinned Auror, "_Bombarda. Crucio. Stupefy. Reducto._"

The Auror was taken off-guard, diving out of the way of the barrage of spells, his well-being at the forefront of his mind.

"King," Tonks shouted turning her wand onto the Potter scion, "_Stupefy. Tarantellegra. Rictumsempra. Reducto._"

Harry smoothly side-stepped the spells, turning against the new threat with ease, his wand flicking through the air.

"_Avada Kedavra_," he said calmly, sidestepping another stunner, "_Ossis Fragmen_."

The Bone Breaking Curse struck her leg, causing her to crumple to the ground with a shout of pain. Kingsley was immediately to her defense, firing offensive spells at a rapid rate.

"_Stupefy_," he shouted, standing over the fallen metamorphmagus, "_Sectumsempra. Reducto. Reducto. Reducto._"

Harry brought forth his shield to stop the stunner, but the next spell slipped through the shield effortlessly, slashing across his torso in a wave of pain. Gasping in pain, Harry dove out of the way of the next three _reducto's_.

He felt the blood soaking his clothing, and he knew that he needed to finish this before he passed out from blood-loss. Struggling to his feet, Harry quickly sidestepped a pair of stunner and an _incarcerous_.

"_Avada Kedavra_," he said, moving away from the spells the Auror was sending at him, "_Crucio. Stupefy. Crucio. Stupefy. Stupefy._"

The five red spells careened toward the Auror in a fan-shaped formation. He watched as the Auror dodged the first four, but was struck by the fifth. He fell, unconscious, atop the dead body of Alastor Moody.

He looked over at Bellatrix and saw her ducking and diving from the spells cast by Dumbledore. She was no longer on the offensive at all, opting to remove herself from the path of his spells.

He raised his wand, and quickly cast a series of spells at the Headmaster, diverting his attention from Bellatrix.

"_Avada Kedavra_," he said, trying to gain the Headmaster's attention.

It worked.

The old wizard turned his wizened blue eyes upon the ebon-haired teen, his wand soon following.

"Oops," Harry muttered to himself as he saw Dumbledore begin gathering his power for an attack, "Didn't think about that."

"_REDUCTO_," Bellatrix shouted, the blasting spell leaving her wand with a roar.

Dumbledore turned from Harry to deal with Bellatrix, allowing the teen to step to her side.

"Well," Bellatrix said, shielding against a stunner, "It's been fun, Dumbles, but I am afraid that we have somewhere to be."

With that, she reached out and grabbed Harry's shoulder tightly and apparated the pair away from the battle. Looking around, Harry noted that they were somewhere in the countryside, nowhere near the Dark Lord's lair.

Bellatrix reached down into the collar of her robes and removed a silver chain, and upon the chain, a silver Dark Mark. She looked over at him, and saw his pale features, along with his swaying.

"What's wrong," she asked, before seeing the gashes in his clothes, and the blood soaking his front, "Oh, shite."

He smiled wanly as she looked at his face again.

"Just get us out of here," he said, blinking slowly, "I'll be fine."

She held out the Dark Mark pendant, and he pressed a finger to it.

"Activate," she whispered, causing the portkey to activate and whisk them away from the beautiful countryside.

They reappeared in the Manor, the force of their landing driving Harry to his knees, gasping for breath. His chest was almost entirely burning with pain, as he knelt in the center of the foyer, his blood dripping to the ground with soft splats.

"What were you hit with," she asked, kneeling beside him and gripping his shoulder tightly, "I have to know."

"_S-Se-Sectumsemp-ra_," he said through waves of pain, "It was _sectumsempra_."

"Oh," she said, pushing his shoulders back as he leaned forward at a particularly intense wave of pain, "_Sano_."

Harry gasped as he felt as though someone was pulling his flesh together, piece by piece. Squeezing his eyes shut, he dropped his wand with a clatter as a sharp pain appeared in his chest, before vanishing altogether.

Gasping for several minutes, he finally opened his eyes, looking around, and blinking for several minutes. He met her eyes for a brief moment before looking down and grabbing his wand from the white marble floor. He noted that his blood had pooled beneath him.

Pointing his wand, he twirled it deftly and muttered, "_Evanesco_," cleaning the blood from the floor and his robes.

"_Reparo_," he heard Bellatrix say, and when he looked, he saw her wand pointed at his chest.

Upon closer inspection, he saw that she had repaired his robes where the curse had decimated the material. She rose to her feet smoothly, as she stowed away her wand.

Reaching down, she offered him a hand, which he took after a moment's hesitation. She pulled him to his feet, and nodded at him once before turning and walking from the foyer.

"I think that was a test," he said to himself as he slowly walked from the room, "But did I pass is the other question?"

He reached up and removed his mask, looking down at the blood-splattered face, pensive.

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update, my muses seemed to have abandoned me. I would like to thank my readers for sticking around and putting up with the lengthy updates.**


	5. Chapter 5

_**The Allure of the Darkness**_

**Chapter 5**

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine, save the computer I am writing this on. Trust me.**

It had been two days since the confrontation with the Order, and Harry couldn't help but feel as though it had been far too quiet for his tastes. After he and Bellatrix had arrived in the manor following the attack, they had been called in to see the Dark Lord. And give a report.

Harry vividly remembered the praise the Dark Lord had bestowed upon them for surviving an attack and killing Alastor Moody. In truth, it was Bellatrix that killed Moody, it was Bellatrix who held off Dumbledore, and it was Bellatrix who got them out of there. Harry didn't do a blasted thing, save breaking Tonks's leg and dueling Kingsley.

He smoothly rose to his feet and paced the room, scowling slightly as he thought back on the fight. He knew he could do better, and he knew he could have finished Tonks, since she was lying on the ground sporting a broken leg, and he could have also kept himself from getting hit. He was interrupted mid-thought when his arm began burning; the Dark Lord was calling.

Sweeping around, Harry grabbed his clean mask from the table and slipped it onto his glasses-free face. He couldn't remember when he had lost his glasses, but he didn't seem to need them anymore. Slipping his mask onto his face, he glanced in the mirror quickly to check his appearance.

His only distinguishing feature was his emerald eyes and messy black hair. Narrowing his eyes in concentration, Harry tapped the top of his head, causing his hair to neatly style itself atop his head.

Nodding, he quickly crossed the room and walked briskly down the hall. Navigating the turns expertly, he soon found himself within the Dark Lord's throne room, along with the rest of his brethren. Walking to the forefront, he knelt before the Dark Lord.

"Milord," he said, pressing his forehead to the floor and waiting.

"You may rise," the Dark Lord said calmly, "Take your place amongst your brothers and sisters."

Harry rose and bowed his head; backing into his place to the Dark Lord's left. He watched as Death Eater after Death Eater did the same thing, though, only the Inner Circle stood behind the Dark Lord. He watched as Bellatrix took her place to the Dark Lord's right, and the remainder of the Inner Circle took up positions beside the two.

Finally, when the movements died down, the Dark Lord rose from his throne and looked upon the throng of people arrayed before him, his crimson eyes looking down upon the masked figures.

"My most loyal followers," he began, looking upon them, "It brings me great satisfaction to see all of you before me, alive and free, of course."

Harry looked down at the people around him, glad that the Dark Lord had generously taken his time to tell him the proper etiquette for these meetings. He had managed to enter, properly greet his lord, and assume his position in the Inner Circle ranks, and he did it without embarrassing himself.

"After careful consideration," the Dark Lord continued, "I have decided that a raid is in order. Yes, you all did go and prove your worth as Death Eaters, but the Ministry is still delusional about their safety. We will strike at their strongest points, and we will cripple them."

The mass before him surged forward, shouting to the Dark Lord, pledging him their services.

Raising his hands, the Dark Lord smirked, "Very good. Amycus, Alecto, you two will create teams of twenty, but not participate with them. I have a special mission for your particular . . . talents."

The twin siblings bowed to their lord, their clear blue eyes scanning the crowd, already dividing the Dark Masses into veritable strike teams.

"You are dismissed," the Dark Lord said, causing the masses to start moving toward the exit, masked by the noise, the Dark Lord turned and addressed Bellatrix, "You and Lucius shall lead the raid. I will give you your target tonight, and then you will have time to plan the best method of attack."

"Yes, milord," she said, bowing to the powerful man, "It shall be as you command."

"Harry, I think now would be an appropriate time to speak with Severus," he said, turning toward the teen, "I would like to know if he is my leak, after all."

"Right away, milord," Harry said, bowing at him, "If I may be dismissed?"

"You may," he said, allowing Harry to walk from the room.

As soon as Harry was clear of the room, he broke into a run, searching the manor as he did. He turned down the hall leading toward the apparition point, and spotted the unmistakable billowing robes of his potions professor.

"Professor," he shouted, trying to catch up to the man as he put on his Golden Gryffindor façade, "Professor Snape."

The hook-nosed professor spun, looking at the teen in confusion. His onyx eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out the identity of the masked person running toward him.

When Harry drew near, he reached up and removed his mask, revealing a panicked expression.

"Professor," he said, panting, falling into his Gryffindor role easily, "I need help. I think I made a huge mistake."

"Potter," the man asked, surprised as he pulled off his own mask, "What are you doing here?"

"I got into Voldemort's good graces. I thought I could handle it," he said, looking back the way he came nervously, "But I can't. Professor, you have to get me out. He's going to kill me, I just know it."

"Potter, pull yourself together," he said, looking around before lowering his voice, continued, "I will speak with Dumbledore. I'll get you out of here. Just wait a few more days."

"Thank you," Harry said, relieved, closing his eyes, "I couldn't take anymore."

"I must go," the Professor said, sliding his mask back onto his face, "I have to inform the Headmaster."

The Potions Master spun and stalked into the room housing the apparation point. He didn't see the look of sadistic glee cross Harry's features as the man departed the Manor.

"Stupid," Harry said with a sneer, "_Stupid_ man. He didn't even try to check my honesty. Damn I'm good! Congratulations Harry, on a job well done!"

* * *

Harry re-entered the throne room, noting the presence of the Inner Circle, his mask back upon his features. He kneeled to the Dark Lord and awaited the man's permission to stand.

"Rise, my faithful servant," the Dark Lord intoned, gesturing grandly, "What do you have for me, Harry?"

"Snape is not one of yours," Harry said succinctly, "Unless he is waiting to give you the news later. He told me he would inform the Headmaster and get me out of here."

"That wasn't the news I was hoping for, but, I now know where my information leak is," the Dark Lord said, thinking, "We'll keep him alive for a while yet. We can use him to feed Dumbledore some bad information. It will also keep you from their suspicions, thinking you are working with me out of a skewed sense of righteousness, rather than a change of heart."

"Of course, milord," Harry said, bowing again, "It is my pleasure."

"Very good," Voldemort said, then turned to Bellatrix, "Bella, I want you to take Harry. They may try to snatch him back during the raid. You will not allow this to happen."

"Yes, milord," Bellatrix said bowing to him, "It will be done."

"Very good," the Dark Lord said, "Your target will be the Auror Academy. I originally planned for no survivors, but circumstances have changed. I want your main objective to send them a message. Make the populous know that the Ministry cannot be trusted. We need to create anarchy before we can pick up the pieces and arrange them to our liking."

"It will be as you wish, milord," Bellatrix said, bowing yet again, "We will make sure it is done."

"Excellent," the Dark Lord said, a malicious smile sliding onto his features, "You are all dismissed."

The Inner Circle bowed, backpedaling to the exit before leaving the Dark Lord to his devices.

* * *

Harry walked away from the revel with a sense of self-accomplishment. Reaching up, he removed his mask from his features and slipped it into his pocket. Walking through the halls, he idly thought about how he had just sold out his most hated Potions Professor, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Entering his room, he couldn't help the feeling of glee from welling up within his chest.

"You shouldn't have fucked with me Dumbledore," he said, a cruel smirk twisting his features, "Now it is my turn to get my revenge, with interest."

Throwing his head back, he began cackling madly. Unbeknownst to him, Bellatrix was watching from the doorway, one eyebrow raised at his actions.

"Well, that was interesting Potter," she said, a vicious smile snaking its way onto her features.

He stopped abruptly and spun to her, drawing his wand as he did so, the tip glowing red for a brief moment before dying as he lowered his wand.

"Oh, it's you," he said, turning from her to glance upon his empty bookshelves.

"Glad to see I'm appreciated," she muttered sardonically, moving from the doorway and walking over to his chairs and flopping into one gracelessly. He scowled at her.

"That's my chair," he said, glaring at the dark witch.

"Sorry," she asked, looking not-at-all sorry, "Your point?"

"That's _my_ chair," he said again, unsubtly hinting for her to move, "My _favorite_ chair!"

"They are all your chairs," she said, rolling her eyes at the belligerent teen, "And they are all the same."

"But that one is my favorite," he pointed out, eyebrows raising slightly.

"Too bad," she said, "I'm not moving."

"Bella," he whined, sagging slightly, "Please?"

"Let me think about it," Bellatrix said, shifting in her seat, "And the answer is . . . no."

Harry's face twisted into a menacing mask, his emerald eyes darkening with his anger.

"Oh, just sit down," Bellatrix said, rolling her eyes again, "You weren't even sitting in it."

"Oh," he said, looking down, "True."

He walked over and sat down, folding his arms across his chest in his final bout of petulance. Scowling slightly, he looked back at her, eyebrows raised slightly.

"What are you doing here," he asked, tilting his head to the side, regarding her silently.

She shrugged, crossing her arms across her chest as she sank into the cushions with a small smile, her violet eyes regarding him curiously from her spot several feet away.

"What," he asked, confused, looking behind himself before glancing back at her, "Do I have something in my teeth?"

"No, it's nothing," she said simply, turning her head away to look into the flickering flames in the fireplace.

Harry turned to look into the fire with her, sitting in companionable silence for several minutes, pondering a question that had been on his mind for several days. Frowning, he released an explosive sigh, shifting forward and burrowing his head into his hands with a frustrated sound from his throat.

"What's wrong," Bellatrix asked, having turned and looked at the ebony-haired teen, her brow furrowed slightly.

He grunted slightly in reply, refusing to do anything else, fingers slipping through his hair, dragging his nails along his scalp. He heard the shifting of cloth before a cool fingertip brushed against the back of his hand, causing him to jerk his head up and look at her. A niggling doubt flared in his mind, causing him to drop his head back down into his hands, frown marring his features as his bright emerald eyes stared at the floor between his feet.

"There's something wrong," she stated, tilting her head and once again watching him curiously, "I can tell. I may not be mentally stable, but I am no idiot."

"I'm having…doubts," he admitted quietly, his eyes still staring at the ground, "Not about my allegiance to the Dark Lord; but more about whether I can kill as remorselessly as the next Death Eater. I killed my relatives, sure, but they were disgusting people. Not even Death Eaters would do what they did to me. And that Auror at the prison, he deserved what he got." Lifting his head once more, he looked at the dark witch before him for a few moments before turning and looking into the fire. "I don't know if I can just murder people who I used to be friends with, no matter what they had done to me. Or even complete strangers. I don't know if I can do it. Fight them, yes. But killing them, or worse, I don't know if I am strong enough."

Sighing, Bellatrix leaned away from him, tilting her head to the side as she carefully regarded him. His head turned to track her movement, a guarded expression slowly shifting onto his features. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips, just realizing what he had just said, and to whom he said it. _Oops. Probably shouldn't have told __**her**__ of my doubts_, he thought to himself, swallowing nervously.

"Then I do believe we have a problem, Potter," Bellatrix said slowly, folding her hands in her lap casually, "But, possibly, one we can fix. And without the Dark Lord finding out."

"We do," he said simply, trying to smother the nervousness he suddenly felt, "What're you going to do?"

"You can relax because I'm not going to tell the Dark Lord," she said suddenly, turning her violet eyes away from him, "And everyone feels what you do when they first join. Lucius did. Rabastan did. Hell, even _I_ did. It isn't unheard of."

Harry sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. "How did you get past it? How do you do it then," he asked quietly, dropping his head into his hands once more with a groan.

It was several minutes before Bellatrix spoke again, her voice quiet. "I used to think that the person I was supposed to harm was Rodolphus. It's actually a pity that I wasn't able to kill him," she said simply, "After a while, the spells become second nature, and you don't even have to imagine the one you want to harm."

"That…that actually makes sense," he said thoughtfully, "Thanks, Bella."

"It was nothing. But I do have one question for you," she said in reply, "How were you able to do such spells? I know none of us taught you those, yet, at any rate."

"You did tell me how to cast the Cruciatus in the Ministry, remember," he pointed out, "And I share a mind…connection with the Dark Lord himself. I sometimes see things he is seeing in fits of great emotion. When he casts the spells, I can tell how they feel, what he's thinking. It's easy to replicate."

Bellatrix stared at him thoughtfully, raising one neatly sculpted eyebrow for a brief second. "Is that all," she asked curiously, the thought of someone able to view the Dark Lords mind intriguing her.

"Well, no," he said frowning slightly, "My scar burns sometimes when he's near, and he's feeling great emotion. He can also access my memories too, just as I can his. I have never understood it, and Dumbledore didn't attempt to explain it." The last half of that sentence was spat out with such venom that Bellatrix rocked back slightly, her eyebrows raised nearly to her hairline.

She was quiet for so long that Harry looked up at her nervously, only to find her sitting silent in her chair, studying him like he was some unidentified animal. Her violet eyes were narrowed slightly, a single long finger tapping lightly upon the arm of her chair. They remained like that for several long moments, his bright emerald eyes locked upon hers, and her head slightly canted to the side as her eyes searched his own, trying to find answers to questions Harry didn't know. His tongue flicked out and gently traced his lips, freezing when he saw her eyes drop to the appendage before flicking back up to his face.

Rising suddenly to her feet, Bellatrix swept gracefully across the room, leaving Harry standing there, staring at her back in confusion as she left the room. What had he done?

* * *

Bellatrix stood in the middle of her rooms, her brow furrowed as she stared down at the dark carpet beneath her feet. Her hands were clenched in to fists, nails biting deeply into her palms, blood dripping from her knuckles to land on the carpet.

What was wrong with her? Her emotions were running rampant, and all for what? Meeting the gaze of a boy many years her senior. _No, that's not it, and you know it_, her rebellious mind whispered to her, causing the black-haired witch to shake her head violently, _he made you feel. Truly feel for the first time. And he did so in less than a week._

Shaking her head violently, she bared her teeth in a wordless snarl, fists tightening as the sharp points of pain flared on her palms. Damn him. She had thought she would be free of this kind of shit, and now look at her, she was arguing with herself after _fleeing_ his presence.

How embarrassing!

Releasing a frustrated scream, Bellatrix whipped her wand from its sheath and pointed it at a heavy oaken desk against her wall, blasting curse ripping itself from the end of her wand as she blew it into pieces. It wasn't enough. Quickly repairing it, she did so again and again until the desk couldn't be repaired any longer.

Sinking to her knees, Bellatrix panted harshly, her hands spread upon the carpet before her. She was truly lost. She didn't know what to do. Turning her head, she stared at the wall towards Harry's room, her violet eyes tormented and confused.

**A/N: My most sincere apologies for the _extremely_ late delay. Hopefully the next chapter will take much less time. So, the usual, read and review. I love to hear your questions, and most importantly, I like to see your opinions. TMLO**


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